“What if I throw up on you?”“There’s this great invention I have to tell you about, Celie,” he said, pressing his lips to my temple. “It�...s called a washing machine.”I punched him in the chest.“Don’t call me that,” I grumbled.“It’s been over a year now and I still don’t have the right to give you a nickname?”“I don’t like nicknames.”“And I don’t like Mondays, yet here we are.”I snorted, but it was replaced a moment later with a groan. “I should be at work,” I complained. “I can’t keep slacking. Mmm. Mmm’ as she, seemingly, enjoyed her task. Calmly, Don told her to get back on the bed. He had her scoot as far up on her pillows as she could. She never protested nor tried to shield any part of her body… from his view or his touch. He gently rubbed his daughter’s tits, moved across her stomach and lower, resting a palm on her pubis. He began rotating his hand and inserted two fingers into her slit. It was messy, but he was about to take care of that.Jamie’s neck arched as her father’s. More

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